A Gift of Words
by Bardic Jester
Summary: ONE SHOT. Fluttershy has given Twilight the most innocent, personable, perfect gift. Twilight is distraught over her inability to repay Fluttershy with a gift of her own. Rated for Language.


It was just a flower.

How could such a small flower have been so powerful? It was such a perfect, personable, succinct gift. Just by looking at it, the emotions it made Twilight feel were hard to explain. Weeping off the petals were the sincere intentions and hopes. The scent brought such calm in its little adoration. The damned thing brought down Twilight's barriers; made her feel special and wanted. Her thighs shook when thinking of it; her knees fought to not give out.

Fuck.

How could Fluttershy have known? How could she give the perfect gift? She probably had no idea of it's effect on Twilight. Since Twilight had known her, she would just follow through on those feelings that felt naturally 'right' to her. Even in their relationship, it was hard to isolate a moment not informed by this. Hardly a thought was probably put into what this gift could mean; what it would mean. It was just the right gift to give at the time. How could she do this? How was this so natural within her self? Could a person just be this nice? It was a gift, such a great gift, given with the most innocent and heartfelt sincerity. Fluttershy, eternally cute and endearing, but too perfect at times.

It was driving Twilight mad.

How could she repay Fluttershy? Sure, they could fuck, or Twilight could eat her out, but those almost felt vulgar in this circumstance. A kiss would do. All Fluttershy would want is a kiss. But a kiss would be too simple! Twilight would have given Fluttershy a kiss irrelevant to whether Fluttershy had given her the flower. Twilight needed to given her something special. She needed to try and give Fluttershy the same intensity, same warmth, same truth, that she had experienced.

She wanted to. She, simply, just really wanted to. To show how much Fluttershy meant to her, as she felt Fluttershy had shown to her.

When the door bell had rung, Twilight had been sleeping on a couple of her books. Her head still trapped in the places the words had brought her. Thoughts of her magic, and her possibilities filled her head. The places she wished to reach, felt so close in those times. The dreams of what could be, and what she wanted. It was a content state of bullshit, but she was enthralled. She always had been. In all of those moments, she would be thinking of the possibilities, instead of living them. Those moments she was stuck in her head analysing the 'maybe' and not the 'happening'. Here, in her dreams lying on top of her books, she could experience it. She could live, fully, directly, not in the 'real', but in the fantasy world of what could be.

The door bell broke her out of her concentration.

She opened the door cautiously. Her mind was aching to return to her dreaming. What could be interrupting her? Outside Fluttershy stood silently. Rain fell, heavily, covering her coat. Her legs shivered.

In Fluttershy's mouth, a small flower hung. Her eyes avoided Twilight's, perhaps ashamed for her current state. Twilight barely even noticed the flower at first, and only thought of bringing Fluttershy inside. As Fluttershy remained silent, and seemingly uninterested in entering the library, Twilight's attention was drawn towards the flower. Realising it was Fluttershy's intention that Twilight take the flower, She motioned her mouth towards Fluttershy's. Lightly grazing Fluttershy's lips, Twilight took the flower into her own mouth.

Before Twilight had a chance to make another motion, Fluttershy flew off. Twilight stood in the doorway, staring, for a minute later. She was confused by the situation, but eventually moved back inside.

The flower was small and in a wide bloom. It was painted with strong and accented colours, which begged to be noticed and appreciated. Wide and broad, the petals were a soft canvas of innocent strokes: stealing the intentions. A deep purple surrounded around the edges of the petals. Towards the middle, the purple bled into a yellow. On the yellow, small blotches of a light pink had been splashed. Within the middle, the three colours were blended, spiralling in a desire for the sublime placement: together fully on the stigma.

It was them, together, in a flower.

The beauty of it caught her off guard. As she started to absorb and examine the details, it increasingly became clearer to her what it meant: what this flower was. She felt nearly ashamed, but it broke her down. Like a sharp jab into her chest, or a strike to her face, all she remember was the weeping. Standing alone, in her place, the tears crawled down her face. How could a flower break through her emotions like that? How could such a simple thing affect her more strongly than anything she could remember? Her knees locked up; her head became faint and she started to worry she was going fall over; shaking, she was shaking; the tears, why did they keep coming? Why couldn't she control herself? Why?

In the past couple of days since, Twilight stayed mostly alone within her library. She tried to leave as briefly as she needed to. It wasn't really true that she was avoiding the others, but they weren't in her focus. She was determined to do one thing: find the proper way to give something back to Fluttershy.

Initially she wondered what she could do with her magic? A spell to affect Fluttershy's emotions? No, that didn't feel like it would be right at all. Perhaps one of the spells of beauty? She could use one of those to make something just a beautiful to give to Fluttershy. But something was wrong with that too! They were lacking the sincerity. What was special wasn't the flower itself. It's beauty alone wasn't what caused Twilight to break down. There was something special about the sincerity, and the innocence, and the pure intentions, and the unimportance. Fluttershy had just wanted to give her a pretty flower, which seemed to represent them. Somehow that was the important part. Somehow that had been what had meant so much.

She needed something equally sincere, and personable. She needed it to come from herself. Magic felt like it just didn't fit. It was too intellectual, and too independent. Magic would work for anyone; she wanted something just for them. She wanted something special.

But what could it be? All she knew were books. Fluttershy knew nature, and flowers. She only knew words. Could that be a sufficient gift? Could words really capture what she wanted? Had she come across it? Had she ever felt it before? Did she know it could work?

Could she write a poem that was just right?

Well, maybe, but it seemed like the closest thing she could do. It may not reach to the heights she was aiming for, but it would surely give her the longest reach. In those metaphors, maybe she could hide those intentions of hers well enough. That she could catch in the web of allusion her sincerity. Between those lines, her meaning would rest, ready to attack the heart of Fluttershy as she read. And hopefully Fluttershy would melt, just like how Twilight had melted for her.

But while Twilight had read many poems, could she write one? Could she properly express those thoughts, convey those emotions? It seemed daunting. It had been years since the last time she had written a poem, and as she remembered them it brought uncomfortable memories of forced pretension. But back then, she'd been trying to express her admiration of Princess Celestia. Each attempt was trying to discouver a greater, fuller metaphor to describe the princess's light. It all felt forced and insincere to her now. Though at this moment her goals were different. Hopefully it wouldn't lead to the same mistakes.

She just needed to capture Fluttershy, and herself, and them together, and what Fluttershy means to her, and what they together mean to one another.

Yet, that was far harder to do! How challenging it was to put down those emotions on paper! Did she know how to write down a shiver crawling slowly down her spine? Did she know how to write that longing, eating away at her stomach while Fluttershy was away? Did she know know to write down that feeling between her legs when Fluttershy was close? Did she know how to write about that urge, the urge that spread throughout her body and blinded her limbs, to stroke Fluttershy's cheek with her own?

Fuck, it was hard to do. Fluttershy had captured something special in such a small piece, could Twilight do it too? Did she have to do it in the same way? Should she be structured and ordered, describing the heights and sublime as the Romantics? Perhaps capturing the mind and form as the Moderns did? Maybe she should break the lines and play with the words to give her as pure to her intentions, as those Postmoderns had?

To give, to give a gift of words, was a game she felt unprepared to accomplish. There were dozens of different sheets of paper laying on the surfaces around her. Each an unfinished or unworthy piece. Fluttershy would hate them all. Well, if it were possible for Fluttershy to hate, she'd feel that way to those poems. Twilight hated them, that seemed more accurate. She hated all those words; all of those metaphors; all of her failures.

She just wanted to get it right. Right in the way that Fluttershy had gotten it right. She knew to a certain extent that her goal was silly. There was no way she could replicate the feeling for Fluttershy, for that feeling was Twilight's alone. The past can not be replayed. But, Twilight wanted to try. To the extent that someone could try, that was what Twilight wanted to give her. An expression of her appreciation. Perhaps for her own sake more than for Fluttershy's. Fluttershy would just like a kiss, or a wink, or a good fuck if Fluttershy wasn't too shy to admit it.

How hard it was to capture those shy eyes of hers. To tell such a kind heart, that there was something so much more to her heart. Twilight wanted to steal the strands of her hair and paint the scent of the hope Fluttershy gave her. The real, substantial hope, that her personality gave. How hard it was to tell just how cute those butterflies were on her wonderful ass!

Fuck, fuck, fuck! It was all too much for her. But she was not going to give up. She was going to stay here, and figure it out. There will be something; she will get something to give to her pegasus. She just wished it would be a little easier. A little easier would be nice.

"Twilight?"

Who said that? Twilight was broken from her focus. Someone was here? Quickly she started to examine the room. The door was still closed, and she had not heard anyone enter. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted some blue. Sitting on a windowsill, Rainbow Dash rested in front of an open window. "Rainbow! How long have you been there?"

Rainbow had a look of discontent on her face. She continued to sit on the windowsill for a minute, silent and still. Soon, she stood and flew lightly down to the floor. As she came forward, Twilight was able to notice the details of her face. Bags hung under her eyes, exhaustion was visible. Her face seemed long and drawn out; her head tilted towards the ground. It was hardly Rainbow's usual intimidating pose. Twilight may have described it as a vulnerable stance. To say that though, seemed almost paradoxical when attributed to Rainbow.

"Sorry if I startled you Twilight. I've only been there for a few seconds." Rainbow shifted her head to both sides, trying to make sure she was aware of her surroundings. She didn't want to be surprised by anything; Twilight felt unsure why. This was not the usual Rainbow.

Twilight, who was still a little short of breath after being surprised, tried to compose herself. "Why didn't you come through the door, or knock even?" She felt reminded of her own vulnerability in the library. Someone could sneak up on her at any time. It was fuel for unwanted anxiety. What if the pony who came through the window was threatening? It was a scary thought. Even still, now was not the moment she wished to see her friend. She would have liked to have more control over that.

"Well," Rainbow started. She paused momentarily, as if trying to think of an excuse. "I haven't seen you in a few days, you know. And, and so I wanted to check to see if you were here. You could have been at Fluttershy's place, or anywhere. So I checked the window, and there you were, and the window was open, and I thought I'd just come in, and," her last 'and' was barely a whisper. Her syllables were brief and jagged. She wanted to get everything out soon, and not give time to ponder. The last word lingered on her tongue; she wanted to speak further, but did not appear to know how.

Twilight, trying to console her distraught friend, said: "hey, it's okay. Just next time knock on the window if you're coming in, alright?" It was upsetting to see her friend, who was usually so strong and independent, seem hardly like herself. Twilight wanted to keep asking more questions, but thought that it would be smarter to find out more about the situation before she tried to go any deeper.

"What have you be up to these past couple of days anyway?" Rainbow quickly interjected, trying to lead the conversation away from herself. She started to move around, and started to look at the books lining the ground. She would inspect the title of one, and move to the next.

Following Rainbow, to ensure she did not damage any of the books, Twilight started to answer. "Well I've been," but she couldn't finished her sentence. Could she tell Rainbow? There was no way Rainbow would understand. But it didn't make sense to lie.

"It's okay if you've just been hiding in Fluttershy's pussy. No need to beat around the bush." Rainbow laughed at her own joke. The strength in her voice returning momentarily.

"Rainbow Dash!" Twilight playfully yelled disapprovingly.

Rainbow, lowering her head with a smirk said "sorry, that was a little vulgar."

"I've been trying to write poetry!" Twilight answered strongly. She caught caught her breath; perhaps she had said that a little too loudly. "I've been trying to write Fluttershy a poem," she said in a more assuring voice. It was strange, it is just a poem. Why had that made her need to assert so directly? What was she trying to prove?

"Really? Have you been chewing some of Pinkie's herb?" Rainbow teased, as she started to play around with a couple of the books. She touched the top of one and pushed it on the floor. Repeating the action, she pushed another a little further. Then excited, she kicked a third even stronger into the air. This time, it was caught by Twilight's magic.

Twilight was giving Rainbow a disapproving gaze. "No, my mind's completely sober." Rainbow turned away from Twilight quickly, as if Rainbow was afraid she had just insulted Twilight by kicking the books. It was unlike Rainbow to show shame so readily. "Is something the matter Rainbow? You're not acting like yourself."

Solemnly, Rainbow started to say within a whisper, "well, I need some advice" but before she could finish there was a knock at the door.

Twilight turned her head towards the door. Thoughts quickly came to her head: who would be coming to visit, was this related to Rainbow's strange state, and why was it so hard to be alone? She wanted to focus on her poetry, not talk with others. This was all a little inconvenient. In the last few hours, she had barely written a single good line. Now, with all this distraction, her concentration was completely broken. How could she write now?

Still, she needed to open the door. Slowly she trod towards it, before whoever was there would need to knock a second time. In the action, she didn't notice Rainbow slowly creep into the corner. The look on her face was desperate; her eyes burned a sad crimson.

Opening the door revealed Applejack. Applejack's head was elevated and her focus seemed strong and extroverted. It was quite a different sight from the uncharacteristically droopy Rainbow. Twilight could hear small gasps under Applejack's breath; she may have been running. Once Twilight opened the door, Applejack motioned her gaze around Twilight. It was as if she was disinterested in Twilight's presence, despite having knocked on Twilight's door. "Hey Twilight! I was just wondering," Applejack started, but she stopped abruptly and pushed past Twilight. "There you are! You have some explaining to do!"

Slowly Applejack walked towards Rainbow, who had moved herself into a corner. Rainbow, slightly distraught, appeared has been trying to stand as inconspicuous as she could before the wall. As Applejack approached, some desperation could be noticed on her face. She looked to her sides as if to find a way to escape. "Hey Applejack, how have you been? What do you mean I have some explaining to do?" Her voice was hoarse, and wavering. The emphasis on her syllables were forced and insincere.

How strange these two were acting! Twilight felt confused. She hoped nothing was too wrong; it was uncomfortable to see such good friends fight between each other. Why did they need to act like this in her library? Especially without telling her what was going on.

Angrily, Applejack said with a strong voice "What do I mean? You know very well what I mean! Why have you been avoiding me girl? You know that I know, why have you been trying to get away from this?" Applejack's face was tense and strained. Her eyes cut into Rainbow, who stood silently.

"Well," Rainbow tried to say. Her attention still seemed focused on an escape plan rather than face Applejack. "It was just that you seemed angry. I didn't want to talk about this when you're obviously in a bad state to."

Applejack kept a stern pose, trying to intimidate Rainbow. She was obviously trying to ensure Rainbow would not fly towards a window. "The only reason I'm angry is because you've been keeping this from me. How is continuing to hide it supposed to alleviate my anger?"

"I don't know." Rainbow seemed to be giving up, her legs wavering underneath her. She wasn't comfortable with the situation.

In turn, Applejack's fury only seemed to intensify. As Rainbow began to falter, Applejack kept her strong pose. "How could you be keeping this from me? What the fuck have you been thinking?" The shrill in her voice was loud and overborne. She was loosing herself to the passion of her mood.

Deciding she could no longer passively observe, Twilight jumped in front of Applejack. "Wait!" she yelled, trying to diffuse the situation. "Applejack, calm the fuck down!" Applejack stared open eyed at Twilight, as if momentarily shaken from a dream. Realising the way she had been acting, Applejack started to hang her head. "What is wrong with you two? What's making you act this way Applejack?"

"Well," Applejack's stubbornness quickly returning to her voice. Her head raised once more. "I just finished having a conversation with my brother, who was nice enough to inform me that he's been fucking this little pegasus." She motioned her head towards Rainbow.

In that motion, something changed within Rainbow. Her confidence returned to her in a second. Instead of lounging on her legs, she straightened her back and stood tall. "Hey!" the fire in her voice returning. "I don't see how it's any of your business. I'm allowed to be mounted by whoever the fuck I want! Your brother included."

"I don't care about that. I care about the fact that you've been hiding this from me. How many times have we seen each other in the past few days. How many? And you kept this from me the whole time? You never once thought to tell me." Applejack's voice cracked on a couple of the syllables. She seemed strained.

Rainbow, with a bit more of her intensity, stood tall to reply. "But you do care! If you didn't care, then it wouldn't matter if I kept this from you. You're not just angry cause I kept something from you, you're angry because I kept this from you."

In turn, Applejack's stance became more intimidating to counter Rainbow's. "He's my brother girl! Of course this hiding this particularly will get me angry! Why would it not?"

Twilight started to feel uncomfortable. She did not want to interject, but she also wanted them to calm down.

Rainbow was visibly agitated. She was hardly the solemn pony she seemed like a few seconds earlier. "Because it's none of your fucking business! What happens between your brother and I, only happens between your brother and I."

"Don't be stupid Rainbow!" Applejack exclaimed.

Shit, Twilight needed to do something. She needed to interject.

"How fucking dare you call this stupid!" Rainbow yelled, voice harsh. An agitation built up within her eyes. She shifted her stance, as if preparing to pounce on Applejack.

"Girls!" Twilight tried to yell even louder. The two of them turned to her. "Either calm the hell down, or get out of my library! What is wrong with the both of you?"

Applejack, looking a little shaken, was the first to say anything. "Hey, Rainbow, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. But you know how these things always work out. You might think it doesn't involve me, but it does. Either you or Big Macintosh are going to get hurt. I don't want to see two people so close to me get hurt. It may change things, but I don't want things to change."

Rainbow was unfortunately not as calm as Applejack. The anger was still covering her eys. "You know what? I bet you're just jealous Applejack. No boy wants to touch you, and you're angry at me because of it. You're really just mad that you've had to hear my yells the past couple of nights, knowing you ain't getting shit!"

Silence; the three of them stood still, thinking about what Rainbow had just said. Applejack's face was covered with shock and hurt. She stood there, silently, staring straight at Rainbow. Rainbow, in turn, was avoiding her gaze.

"Fuck you!" Applejack finally said. The two words came out in a whispering shout. Her faltering thoughts audible in her tone. As soon as she said it, Applejack turned around and quickly left the building, slamming the door behind her.

Twilight stared at Rainbow, trying to think of the proper way to react. The scene had happened so fast, she felt unsure of the things which had just happened. Searching for the right words to speak, she began "Rainbow," but she could couldn't figure out what to say next.

"What Twilight?" Rainbow asked. She turned around and faced Twilight. Her eyes looked long and disinterested. The rage in her voice had bled out, the syllables were soft and neutral. "I don't want you to start judging me too."

"Well, if this was what you were hoping to get advice on, that was not how I would have suggested dealing with it." Twilight was unsure of how to advance. She needed to calm Rainbow down, but she also couldn't ignore the argument.

Rainbow, having barely moved from where she had yelled at Applejack, muttered under her breath: "well why don't you fuck off then?"

"No, you're the one in my library. If you don't want to hear me, then get out. How could you question Applejack's sincerity like that? You know as well as I do that she's the most honest pony in Ponyville," Twilight spoke without thinking. By the time she finished her phrase, she realised the judgements hiding beneath the words. Rainbow turned her head in disappointment. She slowly started to trod away. "Wait, sorry. I didn't mean to be judgemental. It's just that, well, you know you're so loyal. I'm just surprised I guess."

Rainbow turned around to stare at Twilight. "Why do you keep bringing up those damned elements? Whenever we're involved it has to boil down to those fucking elements. Sometimes, sometimes those elements don't apply Twilight. Sometimes life's more complicated than that."

Knowing not to press further, Twilight tried to find a way to change the subject. "So, you and Big Macintosh, how long has that been going on for?" Twilight asked, hoping it would be interpreted as merely curiosity.

With a little more life in her voice, Rainbow answered "well, I guess there's no harm in telling you. About two weeks so far. I ran into him one evening, and we decided to share a meal. Afterwards we decided to walk through the farm and one thing led to another. We haven't really been hiding it. I just don't think I need to announce it to everyone. It's private, and between me and him: just not other's business." The colour in Rainbow's face glowed a dim hue. Her tone was personable, and she sounded calm and content as she spoke of her relationship.

"That's sounds great Rainbow. I'm happy for you." Twilight tried to smile her most genuine smile. "Can I ask you something though? I don't want you to take it the wrong way, but."

"Just ask it Twilight. If it's bullshit, then I'll say so," Rainbow quickly interjected.

"Well it's just that," Twilight tried to think of the proper way to word her thoughts. She did not want to repeat what had just happened between Rainbow and Applejack. "It's just that, you always talk about leaving Ponyville soon, and joining the Wonderbolts. I mean, aren't you starting an intern-ship soon with Spitfire?"

"Yeah, your point?" Rainbow asked, confused by what Twilight was getting at.

"It's just that, do you see a future with Big Macintosh? How does he work into those plans of yours?" Twilight finished.

Surprisingly, Twilight's question seemed to bring life back into Rainbow's body. Her slouch disappeared and she stared straight into Twilight's eyes. "He doesn't." She said firmly. "I think that's what's wrong with you and Applejack. You see the world through your eyes, and can't imagine someone would see it another way. That poetry stuff you're doing for Fluttershy is great and all, but that's you two, not me!" She sighed briefly under her breath, a pressure expelled from her chest. "That's the difference between you and I, Twilight: I don't want love."

Twilight stood still, those last for words striking a chord she wasn't expecting. Her legs became tense; her body felt surprised and alarmed. A single thought kept in her head, pounding at a constant rhythm.

Did she want love?

Seemingly uninterested in Twilight's reaction, Rainbow continued to talk. "I, I think I'm going to go and find Applejack. I'm starting to feel bad about how I reacted; I should probably apologise to her." With those words Rainbow flew into the air and left through the front door.

Did she want love?

She watched back through her own experience. Those things felt: hair, touch, breath, a stroke to her cheek, were they connected in that goal? Was that the goal she had wanted along? What was it to classify them in that way? The times had just been, before, at least that was Twilight felt. Yet, here now, to revalue; to re-evaluate; to analyse what she had been assuming the whole time. What had been hiding behind her words? Had each action been pushed forward by the force. Why was that important?

Did she want love?

In those eyes before, she had often searched for the truth behind the desires. Hoping to have the safety and assurance of the future. The knowledge of what those eyes meant and what those eyes wanted. She wanted to be had, in the way she dreamed. Was this love? Was that what she had been hoping for?

Those simple thoughts and desires she had dreamed of achieving, and those she had felt. Did that come together in love? Was that what love was? And was that what she had been trying to give to Fluttershy? Was that what she was hoping to receive if she gave it back?

Did she want love?

Did she want Fluttershy's love?

That flower, the fucking flower, was the gift she wanted to give. And it was very much like love, but it wasn't that. It was the two of them. Fluttershy had given herself, and Twilight, to Twilight to be received. It wasn't the gift that was love: it was the reception. That was why Twilight wanted to give it back. That was why Twilight had hidden herself within her room. She wanted to capture that flower into those words. To push it forward, with the intention she felt in her stomach when looking at the petals. If she could just give it right, if it could somehow get it all right.

But her poem was shit.

Did she want love?

Maybe she could fix it, and get it right. She'd only spent a few days on it; all she needed to do was continue to work at it. But she needed to see Fluttershy soon. She could not keep hiding in her library. It felt wrong if she would see Fluttershy after having failed. Fluttershy wouldn't mind; she probably didn't put a single thought into that flower. That fucking flower!

But Twilight wanted to give her something.

She wanted love.

To give her that gift.

To be able to express the ways she made her feel. To capture those motions she wants to, dreams of, shivers in; when face to face. To tell her about the way she keeps Twilight's eyes; stealing her from across the room. And to apologize when those intentions stutter and falter out too soon. If there were a way, to give that shy girl, what is hidden beneath Twilight's skin. Those ways in which she is affected in her mind, eyes and limbs. And the way in her heart too.

No!

Stay up too late Twilight! Keep being caught up! Keep being tied up! What was the use of this? You're not going to reach that ideal. If you really want what you want, then all you need to give is yourself. You're the gift! You're want to want to give her.

Give yourself to her, you stupid girl!

The poem may be good; the poem may be accurate; the poem may be what you want it to be. But the poem won't ever, ever, be you. You're yourself, that girl which you want to give to Fluttershy. That poem won't ever replace you. The love you want, will not be given to a poem. Fluttershy will never want that poem instead of you; you don't want Fluttershy to only recieve a poem. Even if the poem means you and captures all there is of the pony Twilight: it'll still just be a bunch of words. It'll still just be a gift of words.

Just a gift of words.

Which isn't really the gift you want to give at all is it?

Fine!

Fine! I'll stop! I'll stop.

I don't know. I don't know what I want anymore.

But you're right.

I'll visit her. I do miss her so. There's no use getting too caught up.

Right?

And maybe, hopefully, I'll be good enough.

...

_AN: I'm not sure what to say about this story. I woke up one morning with the rough idea in my head, and sort of wrote it on a whim. I'm sure it's a little messy because of that. Usually my stories are a lot more angsty; it's sort of weird to have written (by my standards) such a happy/cute story. I hope you enjoyed it. _


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